A man and his banjo: A journey to central Asia

Inspiration hit during a Big & Rich concert, the plinky-plunky tones of banjo strings mixing with the duo’s signature rap-country sound to create the perfect storm.

Megan Postle, a voice teacher, prickled as their twangy vocals filled the crowd. Drunk college students gyrated to “Save A Horse (Ride A Cowboy),” their overpriced beer spilling out of the cheap plastic cups and onto her jeans. Glancing over at her husband to voice her complaint, she found Damon Postle swaying along with the rest of the crowd, the nonsensical lyrics rolling off his lips with ease.

During a pause in the action, she mentioned her distaste of the banjo, planting the seed of his ultimate prank in Damon’s mind.

He started playing the banjo to annoy his wife.

“So a year later, he decides to buy himself a banjo to play and then plays it ad nauseum for hours,” Megan said. “And he played ‘Cripple Creek,’ so many times and ‘Old Joe Clark,’ so many times.”

Damon’s appreciation for music’s varied genres stems from his childhood in Everett, Washington. Growing up, he played the piano, tenor saxophone and bagpipes while exploring his interest in global folk music. Near the end of high school, he discovered Tuvan throat singing by chance when his music teacher had him listen to “Tuva: Voices from the Center of Asia,” a Smithsonian Folkways album produced by ethnomusicologist Ted Levin. The record lit the fuse on a lifelong passion project.

“Ever since I've known him, he has been passionate, inquisitive, curious towards anything that was non-Western-culture music,” Megan said. “And I think a lot of it was always brought up by him because his family is so incredibly musical.”

With generations of musicians on his mother’s side, Damon grew up with the soft tones of the piano echoing throughout their home, the familiar melodies repeating themselves in his adulthood. His house with Megan is often filled with the tinkling keys of her piano, the yaps of their Keeshond named Kiera, and yes, Damon’s prized banjo. They met while performing the opera “Dialogues of the Carmelites” at the University of Washington more than 20 years ago, Megan playing a nun that got guillotined as Damon cheered. He said it was “love at first chop.”

Their wedding followed a few years later with one minor hitch, Megan’s pirate-napping. Damon succeeded in rescuing his new bride from a dastardly duo of Seattle pirates, the photo commemorating the unplanned fun his go-to for every anniversary social media post.

The Postles have a storied history with arts education, Megan often roping Damon in to help with student-led musicals like The Sound of Music and Into The Woods. Damon knew he wanted to pursue music education before even stepping foot on the University of Washington’s campus. His professional teaching career began in 2008 after graduating from the Hartt School, the comprehensive performing arts conservatory of the University of Hartford. Currently, Damon is the music educator at St. Raymond High School for Boys in the Bronx, where he emphasizes global music. Even as the coronavirus pandemic forced him to adapt his teaching methods, he said he is proud of his career choice.

“Teaching was not a fallback decision,” Damon said. “Like, I didn't fall back and think ‘Oh, you know I didn't make it as a great banjo player so I'm a teacher.’ No, I'm a good banjo player and I'm a good musician, and I choose to be a good teacher.”

While teaching, Damon is pursuing his doctorate in instrumental music education from the University of Georgia. His doctoral dissertation discusses how music education helps support post-Soviet Tuvan cultural identity.

Modern Tuvan music often involves ensembles of musicians playing multiple instruments. Alash Ensemble, a musical trio and friends of Damon, meld the old with the new by performing traditional Tuvan music with non-traditional influences. The group has performed around the world, even putting on a private show for Damon’s students. After a 2017 performance in Charlotte, they invited Damon to the Xöömei in the Center of Asia Festival that summer, where the main act was Dave Matthews Band saxophonist Jeff Coffin.

“So they got me the letter of invitation that you need for the travel visa,” Damon said. “I got an invitation to come perform, to go play bluegrass at this international music festival.”

After two flights, an unplanned stay in Moscow, lost luggage, a trek through the woods, and a seven-hour drive Damon arrived in Tuva that August. Along with the festival, his arrival was also marked by Naadam, a three-day festival that brings together athletes from across the republic to compete in wrestling, horse racing, and archery — Tuva’s most beloved sports. Michael Ibeam Cline and Sean Quirk, Damon’s friends and fellow Americans, brought him to the festival where he ended up leading a sing-along.

“I remember we were amongst a group of Tuvans, and there was another, he may have been a Russian guy, I'm not sure, with the guitar and Damon started doing Johnny Cash songs,” Cline said.

The first thing Damon did when he arrived, Cline said, was play his banjo outside of the cultural center in Kyzyl. As a 6-foot-4 blonde man, Damon sticks out from the crowd. Add his banjo into the mix and he is nearly impossible to miss among the short Tuvans.

Damon, along with Mike Haller and Robert McLaughlin, formed the ensemble Three Lost Americans, blending American bluegrass with Tuvan throat singing as they played traditional Tuvan instruments and the banjo. The trio — now known as the White Road Ensemble — were the first westerners to win the audience favorite award at the festival, McLaughlin said. They became local celebrities, Damon comparing the experience to being Elvis Presley and other legends.

“We walked out of the theater and there were hundreds of people backstage waiting, and just like screaming and crying and hugging us and taking selfies and we were signing autographs like I felt like the Beatles,” Damon said.

The success of the first trip showed Damon he could execute his ideas for his dissertation. He returned to central Asia three more times and had his fifth trip planned for this summer before the pandemic put everything on pause. Between trips, he studies his Tuvan and Russian, practices his throat singing and instrument skills, and works on his paper. His last trip to Asia was a month in Mongolia doing fieldwork for his doctorate and teaching music to orphaned or abandoned children in one of Ulaanbaatar’s ger districts. As always, he brought his trusty banjo.

“I've done a hell of a lot more with the banjo than I have with conducting or the saxophone or anything,” Damon said. “This banjo has brought me all over the world. And, you know, trying to be like a good ambassador for the country and do a little bit of music teaching but just trying to be a good person. But it's that banjo that's brought me everywhere. I’ve been around the world now seven times. Completely around the world seven times in airplanes, and it’s with that banjo.”